


and here everyone knows you're the way to my heart (hear so many stories of you at the bar)

by taoslefteyelid



Category: EXO (Band), Z.Tao (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post Zitao Leaving, also holiday gift for alu!!! she deserves better but i can only give her this, canon AU, happy ending (?) though so don't worry, kibum <3 i have nothing else to say i just love kibum, new year's fic for y'all !!! i think this is tradition now, sehun's gay and emo and people are just trying to talk to him, slight minkey and chankai, timeline is kinda ambiguous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28456176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taoslefteyelid/pseuds/taoslefteyelid
Summary: “I felt a bit of you around me today,” Zitao says, voice tinny through Sehun’s laptop speakers. “Did you send it over or did I always have it?”“You’re an idiot,” Sehun says fondly. “And a sap.”
Relationships: Huang Zi Tao | Z.Tao/Oh Sehun
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	and here everyone knows you're the way to my heart (hear so many stories of you at the bar)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MlNMOONGlE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MlNMOONGlE/gifts).



> HELLO i have arrived yet again for the last fic from me of 2020,,, i know i promised long wip would be out this year but life caught up to me and you know how it goes,,, anyways !!! this one's a gift for alu for the holiday season ! she seemed to like the concept when I talked abt it so i thought why not finish it and so now u all have this ! i wish i could've put in more chankai bc i know how much alu likes them hdfsjakjsdf but i still don't know how to handle them well so. taohun it is !!!!! i hope u all enjoy !!!
> 
> (sidenote: i know this is not how things went down. please don't comment with stuff like "oh this defo didn't happen what are you saying". i know. that's why it's fiction.)

The first month after Zitao leaves, Sehun feels like the air around him has been replaced with water. It’s harder to move through, and a lot more suffocating, and it reminds him of Zitao. All the time. But still, they’re in the middle of promotions and he can’t be doing this, not right now. 

People keep trying to talk to him, and it fucking sucks. What part of “Junmyeon, I love you, but I don’t need an intervention, now please let me cry about this while eating bulgogi in peace” screams  _ TALK TO ME HELP ME PLEASE _ ? He’s perfectly fine processing this on his own, whispered video calls to Zitao where they both try not to cry aside. 

He’s staring at himself in the mirror when Chanyeol clears his throat, and Sehun jumps. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he exclaims, hand over his chest. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

“Don’t swear,” Chanyeol says, widening his eyes in mock shock. Sehun scoffs. 

“Oh, and you’re a saint, are you?” 

Chanyeol raises his hands in defeat. Sehun turns on the tap to wash his hands. 

“I’m here to talk to you,” Chanyeol says quietly. 

“I don’t want to talk,” Sehun says simply, scrubbing his fingers a little more vigorously than normal. 

“I know this is hard,” Chanyeol forges on bravely. Oh, Chanyeol. He really thinks Sehun won’t throw the handwash at him. “But it’s what’s best for him, and- and-”   
  


“Chanyeol,” Sehun says, quiet, warning. “We made the decision together. And I don’t want to hear this from you of all people.” 

He winces at that. Sehun pretends he doesn’t notice; he knows it was a low blow, but hey. It’s true. 

“It didn’t mean anything,” Chanyeol defends. “I still care about him. And you.” 

“I know,” Sehun says. “But I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“He loves you.” 

Sehun steps away from the sink and extends his arms to rest against it, bowing his head and sighing, before straightening again. 

“You seem to know more about this than I do,” Sehun says, looking Chanyeol dead in the eyes. God, he’s probably going to be staring at Sehun’s insane dark circles. Whatever. “Should I inform Zitao you’re the one dating him?” 

“No need to be aggressive, Hun-ah.” 

“Don’t,” Sehun says, taking a sharp intake of breath. “Call me that.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol says, softly. Sehun stares at him for a second, before shaking his head and turning in search of a towel. He walks towards the fluffy white one by the showers, and starts to dry his hands. 

“You know, he talked to me. Before he went. The first time, I mean.” 

Sehun freezes. The silence lingers for a second. 

“He asked me to take care of you. To check in on you when he couldn’t. You should’ve seen the way he talked, it was like- like something out of a movie. I’ve never heard him speak that clearly before.” 

Sehun keeps his back turned to Chanyeol, hands making their way across the towel, and he’s going to need to go on a walk after this. Call Zitao and cry for a bit. 

“What did you tell him?”, Sehun asks, ignoring the scratchiness in his voice, or how this is the most anyone has ever gotten out of him that isn’t a deflection or something snarky. 

“That I hoped I didn’t have to. That he did a much better job than I ever could. He just sort of laughed, or you know, did that thing where he smiles and looks away. He said that it didn’t matter how it was being done, just that someone was doing it. You’d take care of the rest.”

Sehun taps his fingers against the wall through the towel, and then turns around, abrupt. He refuses to catch Chanyeol’s eye.

“I’m sorry for being mean,” he says, and it’s rushing out without control. “I don’t think it’s going to stop anytime soon, but I’m sorry. Thank you.”

He can tell Chanyeol wants to say something, to excuse him of blame. 

He leaves the room. 

\---

Chanyeol shares his discovery with everyone, it seems, because suddenly not less than six of his members tell him all about how Zitao talked to them about taking care of Sehun. Sehun doesn’t even know if they’re telling the truth at this point, because really, what is Kyungsoo going to do? Battle away the loneliness with assorted dishes? 

That does sound kinda good, actually.

But none of them seem to grasp why he had listened the first time, and Sehun’s ready to never partake in conversation about Zitao with anyone ever again, when Jongdae settles on his bedroom floor at 5 in the morning. 

“Hyung,” Sehun says, muffled. “You’re making me feel bad by sitting there. Please. I just want to sleep.” 

“You know, you’ll need to talk to us sooner or later.” 

“Later,” Sehun groans, pulling his pillow over his head. “I choose later.” 

“I have something to tell you.”

“I know,” Sehun mumbles, begrudgingly sitting up. “Zitao told you to take care of me, and we should tell our careers to fuck off and get married and adopt six kids. I fucking wish.” 

“Ya, don’t use that language with your elders.” 

“So sorry, hyung,” he says, finally sliding off the bed to blearily sit at eye level with Jongdae. “Anyways, I’ve heard this before.” 

“No you haven’t,” Jongdae says, and Sehun blinks.    
  
“What?” 

“You don’t know what I’m going to talk to you about.” 

Sehun stares at Jongdae, and then raises his eyebrows, motioning him to go on.

“You remember how he used to practice his wushu all the time before and around debut time?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “I used to help.”

“Well,” Jongdae says. “When Zitao asked Luhan to ask you to help, he didn’t… really need you to.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

Sehun thinks about his supposed job spotting Zitao, where they barely spoke to each other because of the language gap and also how shy Sehun used to be, and how it entailed almost nothing other than spending all of practice with Zitao and then ushering him back when he felt Zitao had overworked himself. Huh. 

“He didn’t need you there. He just wanted you there.”

“Why?” 

“Thought you were cool, apparently,” Jongdae smiles. “He wanted to talk to you, but he literally didn’t know how, so he just sort of made up excuses to spend time with you. Used to gush about you all the time, and how he thought you really liked being at practice.” 

Sehun thinks about catching himself staring way too intently at Zitao’s arms, and blinks. God. 

“Oh.”

That’s all Sehun can bring himself to say, but for Jongdae, it seems to be enough. He starts to get up to leave, and Sehun stares up at him. 

“You can go back to sleep now,” he announces as he ambles to the door. Sehun absently massages his shin. 

“And,” he continues, halfway through the door. “If you have 6 kids, name one of them after me, will you?” 

\---

“No,” Sehun says, simple, resolute. 

“But why not?”

“Junmyeon. For the last time. I don’t want to talk about things. I appreciate you and what you do a lot, but I’m honestly fine. Please don’t try to mentally dissect me.”

The water’s starting to clear out a bit, but Sehun’s still struggling to make his way through it. He needs to do something impulsive, and he needs to do it soon.

“Leave him alone, Junmyeon,” Minho pipes up from the other side of the room. Why are they even here? Sehun forgets. “Anyways, can you go get us some food? I’m hungry.” 

Junmyeon looks between the two of them, and then sighs, knocking nervously on the door before leaving. 

Quiet fills the space, and Sehun reaches for his phone. Zitao’s probably busy right now, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. No one’s checking his phone in the next few hours, so it’s the ideal time for a conversation.

God. Look at him. Fucking planning out conversation slots with his boyfriend. 

“Wanna tell me what that’s about?” 

Sehun looks up, and Minho is now on the same couch as him. Wow. For someone that big, he moves quietly. 

“Jesus, no, please,” Sehun says, dropping his phone to the side. “I’m tired of having people try to psychoanalyse me. They mean well, but- but, I don’t know. I’m fine. He’s fine. Everyone’s trying to convince me I’m not, but-“

“No,” Minho cuts in. “Everyone’s just trying to talk to you. If they try to cross a line-”

“Well, everyone can piss off then.”

Minho raises an eyebrow at him.

Sehun groans, running his hands through his hair.

“Sorry, hyung, I just- I don’t get why people feel obligated or-or even entitled to hearing me talk about this. Yeah, it wasn’t easy on me, and they want to check in, but they weren’t the ones who were in the room when we made the decision. And- and I think it’s unfair that people make me keep replaying that, over and over. It’s cruel.” 

Minho nods, almost sagely. Sehun sighs.

“Besides, when I’m upset, I like to wallow. I like to be left alone. I don’t want people trying to “talk it out” or whatever.” 

He looks down at his hands and his phone, and tries not to think too much. They’ll get through this. They will. 

“I hear you like stories of him.”

Sehun’s head snaps up, and Minho smiles knowingly at him. 

“Who’s saying that?” 

“Oh, you know. Just in general. People say that’s the only way to have a conversation with you these days.” 

“That’s not true,” Sehun huffs. “You know, I can talk about things other than Zitao.” 

“You like the stories, then?”, Minho asks, completely ignoring Sehun’s interjection. 

Sehun fidgets with the arm of the couch, looking down and then back up, before he sets his lips in a line and nods. 

“You know, when- when this all calms down, when people aren’t treating me like I’m fragile and when they aren’t texting Zitao to check up on him, he’s still going to be gone. He’s still not going to be here, and I can’t help but feel like everyone will forget him. And I know it doesn’t matter, because I intend to hold on to him for a very long time, but- but I think the stories, they help it feel more real. That other people have and will continue to have memories of him.”

Minho nods again, turning so that he’s facing Sehun even more. 

“I have one for you,” he says, and Sehun can’t help but smile. “You know the second dance practice room down the back wing of the building?” 

“Yeah, it was his favourite. We- uh, he asked me out for the first time in that one.” 

Minho laughs, loud, and it shocks Sehun a bit. 

“I figured it was something like that. Anyways, I like that one because it’s got the windows that let the light in without making it too hot, so I spend a lot of time there. This one time I got there early, 5 in the morning probably, and guess who I found there.” 

When Sehun doesn’t respond, Minho goes on. 

“And I obviously asked him if he had just come or if he’d been there since the evening, and apparently he’d been practicing for a solid six hours. Your boy is a hard worker.”

“Okay, number one, never call him my boy again. Number two, yeah, he is, but sometimes he works a little too hard.” 

“That may be true,” Minho concedes. “I think that’s something a lot of us struggle with, but he seemed pretty satisfied by the time he wrapped up that morning. Taught me some of his wushu moves. It was a good time.” 

Sehun thinks of all the times Minho has asked Zitao to teach him wushu, thinks of laughing at the way Minho would try to get competitive and Zitao would just be in awe of him. 

“He’s a big fan of you,” Sehun says quietly. Then, after a pause, “Thank you.” 

“No one’s forgetting your boy anytime soon.” 

Sehun groans.

\---

“Two shots, vodka, thanks.” 

“Hyung, I think I need to make it clear that I do not think that this is a good idea.” 

Kibum narrows his eyes at Sehun, leaning against the bar. Sehun tries not to spin too much on his barstool, music thumping in the background. 

“What, and I need your endorsement?” 

Sehun blinks. 

“If you’re joking, please tell me. I’m incredibly scared of you.” 

“As you should be,” Kibum says, but a hint of a smile betrays him. He slides a shot over to Sehun. “Besides, you’re upset, I’m your hyung, so the best solution is to just drink until you feel like telling me what’s going on.” 

“I’m not a chatty drunk,” Sehun shoots back. “I just start mistaking random objects for people. Also, if you get drunk, I will  _ not  _ be able to get you home. I am not nearly as strong as Minho hyung.” 

“Or Zitao?” 

Sehun’s face darkens. 

“Or Zitao.” 

“Ooh, is he in trouble?”, Kibum winces. “I recognise that look. That’s the look I give Minho before I throw all his clothes out of his closet.” 

“What? No! What do you- why do you throw his clothes?” 

“Doesn’t matter, answer my question.” 

Sehun sighs, and then takes a sip of his vodka. Who the fuck takes a sip of straight vodka? Sehun does, apparently, and he tries to keep a straight face as he answers, like he isn’t choking on fire. 

“I’m just missing him. He’s been busy all day and I’m… I can’t complain about it to anyone because then they’ll be like oh, you poor, fragile, unfortunate soul, and I don’t want that, you know?” 

“Alcohol is great for that,” Kibum says, motioning to Sehun’s shot glass. Sehun decides to drain it, and it actually helps with the sipping vodka debacle his throat was dealing with. “And hey, you can talk about it to me. I don’t even give a shit.”

“Oh haha, as if you wouldn’t coddle me if I asked.” 

“I would absolutely  _ never _ .” 

“You’re soft, hyung. I know you are.” 

Kibum motions for another two shots and then shakes his head. 

“If you want me to go, just say so.” 

“Okay, okay, fine,” Sehun laughs. “I don’t know, I just want to complain about my stupid boyfriend not being able to answer his stupid texts because of stupid schedules and stupid timezones, but I just know that if I did that people would be weird about it. Ask if I’m okay. If we broke up. If I’m thinking of breaking up. If he’s thinking of breaking up.” 

Kibum snorts. 

“Last one would never happen. Not unless you committed a crime or something, and even then I doubt it.” 

Sehun tilts his head at Kibum. 

“I mean, they’re all equally unlikely but why that one in particular?”

“God, have you seen the way he looks at you? Like you hung the fucking stars.” 

Sehun tries his best but he can’t help but blush, ducking his head as he smiles. 

“Oi,” Kibum says, smacking his barstool. “I didn’t tell you that so you’d go Victorian schoolgirl on me.” 

“No, I just,” Sehun says, still smiling like an idiot. “I like hearing that I have him wrapped around my little finger. I mean, I know, but I like hearing it too.” 

Kibum nods, conceding. 

“Min told me you liked stories,” he says, suddenly serious. Sehun takes his second shot.

He raises his eyebrow.

“Min, huh?”

“This is about your love life, not mine,” Kibum says, and there’s a layer of a threat to it. “Ask me another question and I’ll kick your twink ass off your chair.” 

“Jesus Christ, violent,” Sehun mutters. “Minho hyung really needs to up his game.”

Kibum threateningly extends his leg, and Sehun raises his hands in defeat.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Yes, I like stories.”

“I have one for you.” 

Sehun leans in, and it’s funny to him how everyone has a story for him, but he doesn’t hate it. He thinks of tucking them away in his mind, like notes in old library books.

“You know that one time we were all backstage for SMTown? You came up to us in makeup and whispered something to him in the middle of our conversation before sitting down to get your makeup done, and that was it. It was like you’d destroyed his attention span just by being in the same room as him. I was sitting there talking to him about the new comeback, and he was busy staring at you and smiling like a dumbass.”

Sehun’s blushing even more than he was before now, if that’s even possible. 

“Well,” he says, trying not to sound too giddy, lest he be removed forcibly from his chair. “Don’t take it personally. He likes you.” 

“He likes Minho more.” 

“Everyone likes Minho more.” 

Sehun only narrowly escapes getting kicked off his barstool.

\---

Jongin settles near Sehun in the practice room, their backs against the mirror, and holds out a hand to him. Sehun sighs into his hands, ignoring him. 

“You need to get to bed.” 

“I’m just taking a break,” Sehun mumbles. “I need to practice.” 

“You need  _ sleep _ .” 

Sehun tries to reign it in, but he can’t stop the sob from escaping, and before he knows it, Jongin is wrapping him in a hug. The water’s gone, but sometimes it comes out in the form of tears, warm and angry, till he can barely breathe.

“I’m so lonely,” he manages to push out between sobs. “I’m so lonely and tired and I  _ miss _ him.” 

“Shh, shh, I know,” Jongin says, holding him, and Sehun’s about to burst. “I know, I’ve got you.” 

“It’s so hard for him right now,” Sehun says, through two different snot bubbles. “And I’m just- I’m just sitting here and I can do  _ nothing _ about it. Absolutely nothing.” 

Sehun sits there and cries for another ten minutes, and Jongin holds him through it, comfortingly telling him it’s okay to let it all out. He finally settles down after that, quiet breathing filling the room. 

“Okay,” Jongin says finally. “Okay, you’re coming back home with me.” 

Sehun blinks. 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be-” 

“Listen, I don’t have a story for you, but I am going to make sure that you take care of yourself. I’ll kick Chanyeol out for today, but you’re staying in my room for the night.” 

“Kick Chanyeol out?”, Sehun says, emerging from his tear filled reverie. “What do you- oh my god, are you  _ sleeping _ with  _ Chanyeol _ ?” 

He says it half as a joke, but then Jongin colors, backed into a corner. Sehun looks at him, shock running through his veins, all his angst thrown out the window at this revelation. 

“I will explain later,” Jongin says carefully. “It’s very recent, and I didn’t want to-” 

“YOU’RE ACTUALLY  _ SLEEPING _ WITH  _ CHANYEOL _ ? AND YOU DIDN’T  _ TELL  _ ME? _ ”  _

“Keep your voice down!”, Jongin hisses, smacking Sehun’s arm. Then, under his breath, “I liked you better when you were crying.” 

Sehun slumps back, tipping his head against the mirror. 

“This is insane. Insane!” 

“Okay,” Jongin says, looking like he’s regretting every decision he’s ever made. “I will tell you everything that’s happened with me and Chanyeol,  _ if _ you come back to my place now and let me ensure you sleep and eat enough.” 

Sehun shakes his head, dislodging a stray tear, and then glares at Jongin.

“Fine. But I better be told  _ everything _ . I can’t believe you kept this from me.” 

“I’m going to go get a cab,” Jongin sighs. “Clean up here, will you?” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, getting up with Jongin, and stretching. He needs to wash his face; the crying has made him groggy. 

Jongin walks to the door, before pausing, and looking back at him. 

“Listen,” he says, quietly. Sehun turns to him, and tries not to think of how he ugly cried just a few minutes ago. “I know everyone’s told you stories and stuff about how much he loves you and- and I’m not the best at that, but I can tell you something else.  _ You _ love him. A batshit amount. And I’m sorry it all sucks right now, but if you guys can’t make it through, I don’t think any of us can.” 

Sehun pulls at his own sweater. A few months ago, he would’ve snapped at that, but now, all it does is make him feel warm. 

“Thank you.”

\---

“I felt a bit of you around me today,” Zitao says, voice tinny through Sehun’s laptop speakers. “Did you send it over or did I always have it?” 

“You’re an idiot,” Sehun says fondly. “And a sap.” 

“Your idiot!”, Zitao exclaims. “You love how sappy I am, don’t pretend not to.” 

“Uh-huh. I’ve been collecting stories about you these past few months, you know, and it’s incredible how whipped you are for me.”

“Collecting stories about me, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun sighs. “People seem to have figured out you’re the way to my heart.” 

“Who’s the sap now?”, Zitao laughs. 

“Still you. Always you.” 

They smile at each other, and Sehun puts his hand up on the laptop screen. It’ll be okay. 

They’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> There u go !!! i hope 2021 greets you softly and kindly and that you are warm and happy today, and that you enjoyed reading !!! thank you so much for visiting !!!
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/hztwsx) and [Tumblr](https://taohun.tumblr.com).


End file.
